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December 04, 2006

9021....Whoa

I think I've mentioned before that I was a seriously deprived child who wasn't allowed to watch Beverly Hills 90210 when it first came on because it was deemed too mature for an elementary schooler. Never mind that this left me severely out of the snacktime loop, when others dished on the Kelly/Brenda/Dylan triangle and I had to be okay with talking about Eureka's Castle with a girl who ate paste and thought the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were real and living in the school parking lot, it was just forbidden.

So thank goodness for SoapNet, where I am catching up on the first season in all of its brilliance. And by brilliance, I mean "complete and utter what-the-fuckness".

One major question is why anyone ever would think a person in his or her right mind would care about the relationship of Mr. and Mrs. Walsh. I mean, their storylines are, quite frankly, less entertaining than televised bowling. In tonight's episode, Cindy nearly had an affair with some dude, but wound up not going through with it which, like, thank you for wasting an hour of my time on this crap and also, what kind of man who had not been locked up in the state penitentiary for twenty years would ever have an illicit affair with Cindy Walsh?

Her frump is like whoa.

She also has an alarming tendency to use crazy eyes to convey emotion.

And I'm supposed to believe that a worldly Beverly Hills photographer would just be dying to homewreck for this woman?

Then there is the fashion. ... ... !!! ... I've been watching with equal parts fascination, disgust and horror. I know the early 90s have commonly been referred to (by me) as the land where good taste went to die, but I had no idea that things were really this bad.

Take Andrea Zuckerman, for instance. Yes, I know Gabrielle Carteris was a sixty year old playing a wrong side of the tracks high schooler, but LORD. They dressed her in outfits that ninety year old women buy from QVC and even the ninety year old women are like, "Does this make me look a little elderly?"

I am of the opinion that one can either have fried hair or a pitiful wardrobe, but you can't have fried hair and a pitiful wardrobe. I just think that pairing crispy hair with an outfit that Doris Roberts would wear on a job interview proves that you are a danger to yourself and others.

And then there is Kelly. For a Queen Bee, Miss Taylor certainly veers towards the demented side of fashion. What would Regina George say?

Did she just pull whatever was closest out of her closet and throw it on? The saddest thing is that it's one of her less offensive outfits.

That breaks, like, thirty eight laws that I can think of off the top of my head. You have Brenda's red mom pants and shapeless white shirt embroidered with a knockoff Laura Ashley pattern. Then there's Donna Martingraduates with her, what, Sea World souvenir t-shirt, flowered skirt and jaunty vest accessorized with pins? She's like Claudia Kishi come to life, except she's not Japanese and is completely unwilling to gorge on junk food. I don't even know what to say about Kelly's "outfit". It would be one thing if West Beverly were a school for the blind, but Kelly is a popular princess with the gift of sight, so it makes her polka dot bicycle shorts (!) over bright blue leggings (!!), purple mock neck shirt (!!!) and pink jacket borrowed from Blanche Deveraux all the more perplexing.

It's not just the girls, though. The other day, I was watching the episode where Brandon takes a stand against people who exploit immigrants by quitting his job as a busboy (Fight the power, Walsh!), and I noticed that Dylan's outfit was a little...odd. And I asked myself, out loud, because I'm a dork, "Dude, is he wearing overalls? No, he can't be. Because that would be..."

"...oh my god. He's wearing overalls."

"AND ONE OF THE OVERALL STRAPS IS UNDONE! WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THE WORLD?!" This outfit was truly a cry for help. If only someone had noticed and performed an intervention, perhaps he never would have turned to the bottle. Think about that.